Ranni's curious gaze lingers over the Tarnished's form, studying her. She is clad in basic armor -- armor that, if Ranni is not mistaken, she must have brought from the merchant sitting at the opposite end of the church. Her sword is sturdy, if basic, and she looks for all the world like a simple soldier, albeit one still possessed of their wits and not withered and driven mad by time like much of the forces within these lands.
She is indeed the new master of Torrent, too. He is unmistakable, and Ranni locks eyes with him briefly before he fades into firefly motes.
"A pleasure to meet thee, Tarnished. I am the witch Renna," she greets, her tone low and pleasant, formal and yet a little clipped at the end with an accent. She has no need for this Tarnished to truly know who she is -- here, she is not the Lunar Princess of the Carian House, she is not a former Empyrean, she is not the daughter of Rennala and Radagon. Here, she is merely Renna, a simple snow witch, with a simple mission.
Her hand held aloft is unnaturally still and steady, and the little finch that rests atop it warbles in the cool dawn air, undisturbed by their conversation and the clanking of chainmail.
"I'd heard tell of a Tarnished hurtling about atop a spectral steed. And upon looking into the matter, the talk, I surmise, is of thee. Thou'rt possessed of the power to call forth the spectral steed named Torrent," she continues, another hand gesturing to the space that Torrent had just been. "I entrust he is well. His former master did love him so."
no subject
She is indeed the new master of Torrent, too. He is unmistakable, and Ranni locks eyes with him briefly before he fades into firefly motes.
"A pleasure to meet thee, Tarnished. I am the witch Renna," she greets, her tone low and pleasant, formal and yet a little clipped at the end with an accent. She has no need for this Tarnished to truly know who she is -- here, she is not the Lunar Princess of the Carian House, she is not a former Empyrean, she is not the daughter of Rennala and Radagon. Here, she is merely Renna, a simple snow witch, with a simple mission.
Her hand held aloft is unnaturally still and steady, and the little finch that rests atop it warbles in the cool dawn air, undisturbed by their conversation and the clanking of chainmail.
"I'd heard tell of a Tarnished hurtling about atop a spectral steed. And upon looking into the matter, the talk, I surmise, is of thee. Thou'rt possessed of the power to call forth the spectral steed named Torrent," she continues, another hand gesturing to the space that Torrent had just been. "I entrust he is well. His former master did love him so."